


you are the moon

by eliestarr



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliestarr/pseuds/eliestarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can decide later...when we're alone." | following Summit. Artemis, Wally, and their naked-in-the-fun-way reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are the moon

His foot taps the ground with unsteady rhythm the whole mission debrief. Halfway through Dick’s congratulatory speech, he shoots him a knowing grin, and her hand comes to rest on his thigh to calm him. He bounces on the balls of his feet as they’re saying their goodbyes and M’gann refuses to let Artemis go from the fiercest hug he’s ever seen. When they finally zeta home, he’s bubbling with anticipation and the adrenaline built up during the fight comes roaring back.

When the front door clicks shut, she turns to face him, and her hands shake slightly as they come to rest on his chest. Their fingers intertwine and he pulls her close, breathing her in, slowly easing the ache he’s had for so long in his chest.

Because it’s been ninety-two days, thirteen hours and twenty-seven minutes since he’s had her in his arms, here in their home. But who’s counting?

"You’re home. You’re safe," he whispers the words in her ear and she feels the heat rise in her cheeks. "I was so afraid that you wouldn’t—"

His throat constricts at the very thought, and he doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. “I know,” she murmurs as one hand comes to rest gently against his cheek. The other skims over a tear in his uniform, and he winces slightly. “You need to learn how to duck.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. They stay deep and dark, filled with a warmth she can’t ignore any longer. A warmth she doesn’t want to ignore. She’s so tired of fighting, and worrying, and aching.

Wally leans in, his fingers skimming over her face. His thumb brushes her cheekbone, gently enough not to cause any pain from the bruise beginning to blossom there. And then his palm cups her jaw as he bends down to kiss her, slow and soft as she presses herself closer to him. Her hands slide up from his chest to the back of his neck as she deepens the kiss, and his lips part beneath hers.

They step back towards the bedroom in synch, and he breaks the kiss long enough to open the door and quickly slam it shut behind them when he pushes her body against the frame. He presses his lips against her neck as Artemis claws at his uniform, cursing it in angry whispers. A laugh rolls out from deep in his chest, and he releases her to strip off his gloves, his cowl, and with them, the rest of his suit. Her fingers fumble with the zipper of her own suit, and with gentle hands Wally makes quick work of that, too. For the second time that day, he scoops her into his arms, and when he drops her onto their bed, Artemis raises one brow, looking unimpressed.

And then,  _then_  he takes his time. His fingers sink into her hair as his mouth moves slowly over hers, the little flicks of his tongue sending pulses of heat spiraling through her. She isn’t as patient—she doesn’t moan, not quite, but she pulls him closer still, her short nails digging into his skin as she presses her body against every inch of his, restraint forgotten in the need to feel him, to lose herself in the fact that he’s here and he’s real.

Wally winces when her eager fingers press hard against his bruises, but when he jerks his head back to stare down at her, there is no pain in his eyes. They’re heated, pupils blown wide and black, and she watches as he licks at his lips, his gaze tracking down her body. His hands settle on her legs, just above her knees, and his fingers are long and lean like the rest of him, easily spanning the breadth of her thighs. His thumb strokes lightly over her soft skin, making her shiver as he eases her legs apart, a reaction he certainly doesn’t miss. His gaze locks with hers, and his lips part enough for her to catch sight of his tongue running hungrily over his teeth. Heat swells in her breast, and anticipation bubbles beneath her skin.

He slides his hands higher, fingers firm against the outside of her thighs, pressing in just hard enough to make her feet it, for it to set her heart racing in her chest, to send heat crawling up her body. Artemis shifts her hips impatiently, her legs falling open as he makes his way higher, too slowly for the blaze his touch is kindling low in her belly. But still, Wally won’t be rushed, flashing a quick grin when she wriggles again, the move unsubtle. Even when he reaches her underwear, easing his fingers underneath the waistband, he teases her, dragging it out as he pulls the fabric down, inch by tortuous inch.

But if she thinks to protest, hurry him up, those thoughts are forgotten when he leans down and presses his mouth against the soft skin of her stomach, only inches from where she wants him. She lets out a gasp, the sound turning into a moan as he flicks his tongue across her skin. It’s easy—far too easy—to imagine that touch elsewhere on her body, and the heat that pulses through her doesn’t settle in her belly this time, but lower still, her insides clenching as though she can already feel him inside her.

Wally’s hands slip lower, pulling her underwear off completely, his lips following in their wake, his tongue tracing circles against her skin, down her legs, past her knees and to her ankles as he sinks to the end of the bed. And then he moves up again, pressing kisses against her flesh as he does. He still takes his sweet time, not letting her hurry him, ignoring every demanding jerk of her hips, every time Artemis tries to grab at him, pull him higher, guide him to where she wants him. If anything, her impatience only seems to amuse him; his breath huffs over her skin as though he is laughing silently, the sound muffled against her body.

When he finally reaches the top of her thighs, his tongue returns to tracing concentric circles. She tenses in anticipation to feel that touch against where she needs it most, but instead Wally chooses to tease. He moves right past her damp curls, starting to map the inside of her other thigh, and she growls out his name, sinking her fingers into his hair and pulling less than gently. He laughs again, this time out loud, and his breath ghosts warmly over wet, heated flesh, leaving her shivering, her fingers digging deep into his scalp.

"Damn, you’re impatient," he murmurs, and she opens her mouth to say something, curse him even, but then his tongue presses into her and any words she had ready are lost in the moan she lets loose.

Artemis tries not to think about how long they’ve been apart, about the things she’s done or the worry that’s held a cold grip on her heart for so many months, but it’s easy to forget when her world has narrowed down to the press of his fingers against her thighs, holding them apart, and the feel of his lips and his tongue as he drives her slowly out of her mind. Wally moves his tongue in small circles and she twists in his grasp, her toes curling and her chest fluttering wildly.

Her thighs clench, the sensation overwhelming her, but his hands pin her in place, holding her legs apart as he pulls her towards him, only stopping when she comes to rest at the end of the bed with him. And then he redoubles his efforts, until she’s reduced to a quivering bundle of nerves in his hands.

“Wally!” His name comes out in a gasp, the heat rising up from the pit of her stomach, making all her muscles tremble. He can feel it—he has to be able to feel it, how close she is—but he doesn’t stop, not until she reaches down and pushes his head away. “I can’t—”

He stares up at her, something fierce and hungry in his eyes. He exhales, and she feels his breath, hot against her skin, and knows that when she kisses him again, he’ll taste of her. The thought does nothing to lessen her need for him, and Artemis tugs at his hair, all but begging.

And when Wally smiles, reaching to his ears and flashing teeth, she knows she’s in trouble. “I’m pretty sure you can come more than once, babe.” And then he lowers his head again, lets go of one thigh to use his fingers, and her back arches off the bed.

Her legs clench around his head, and her heels dig into his back, below his shoulder blades. Though she bites down on her lip in an attempt to stop it, a cry nevertheless escapes her lips as he works a steady rhythm, one that will send her over the edge in short order. This time, when she sinks her fingers into his hair, it’s to hold him there as her hips jerk.

He takes pity on her, choosing not to draw it out the way he has, but driving her onwards, paying attention to every moan she let loose, every twitch, every buck of her hips. She’s coming apart at the seams, and when she finally falls, its with his name on her lips.

Artemis is still buzzing when he eases his fingers away from her, and they’re wet against her skin as he grabs hold of her thigh, pushing himself off his knees and leaning over to kiss her. She’d been right—he tastes of her—and she pulls him closer, kissing him harder as she wraps her arms around his neck. His hands slide higher, along her sides and the underside of her breasts.

Wally breaks their kiss, staring down at her for a moment before his hands are on the move again, this time slipping underneath her and pulling her into an upright position. She wraps her legs around his waist, and feels him through the thin fabric of his briefs, just as his teeth graze her neck slowly. His hands trace slowly down her back, leaving shivers in their wake until finally, he pulls away, his forehead coming to rest against hers. “This is the point,” he murmurs against her mouth, “where I really hope I have condoms.”

She laughs, loose-limbed and with her body still humming. “Really?”

He grumbles something about  _months_  and  _restocking_  until his cheeks match his hair, and gently, her fingers trail down his chest, coming to rest against him—something that quiets him pretty effectively. He releases her, and she falls back against the sheets as he begins rifling through the small set of drawers by the bed, and maybe if she had the energy, she’d be rolling her eyes at him.

But Artemis hasn’t been able to watch him for so long. To lie here, in their bed, in their home, and count the freckles on his skin from afar, or admire the way his muscles bunch and smooth out as he searches. To sense his heartbeat beneath her fingers, or watch the way the moonlight hits his hair, or to feel the blush creep up her arms and across the curve of her breasts when he  _looks_  at her as though he’s seeing her for the first time.

And when he finally produces a small box with a triumphant flourish and a grin, her heart swells in her chest and she feels sixteen and falling in love from the start all over again.

She expects him to be as impatient as she, the burning ache in her belly that has slowly built over the months apart one he shares, but Wally continues to surprise her. He takes his time, exploring her body carefully, almost as though he is mapping it, burning it into his memory once more. She tries to pretend that she hasn’t been doing the same when she touches him, but they’ve been at this too long to know better.

His hands settle on her hips, his fingers spanning her curves as he smiles up at her. And then his grip tightens, his smile grows wider and mischievous, and he topples her over, catching her before she can tumble off the bed, rolling to settle between her legs. As he reaches up to grab the foil wrapper from the pillow he’d left it on, Artemis realizes she’d been too busy watching him to notice him strip off the last bit of fabric between them.

Wally kisses her, and his thumb brushes lightly across her breast, causing her to arch against him. And then he’s tearing the condom packet open with his teeth, and she loses herself in the feeling of something else, something familiar. As familiar as the scent of his body against hers, the feel of his hair under her fingers as she tangles them in his hair, and the calluses on his fingers that graze against her skin whenever he touches her. And he never stops touching her, little strokes that drive her higher and higher, wanting more of his touch, of  _him_.

He kisses her again, deep and desperate as he eases her thighs higher until her heels cross in the small of his back, and the angle is enough to have each thrust pressing where she needs it, and she’s gasping out his name before she’s even close to coming.

It doesn’t take long for him to take her closer, for the easy roll of his hips to have her quivering, hanging on that cusp, ready to fall. But he draws it out, back to teasing, watching her closely with bright eyes, reading her far too easily; each sigh, each time she clutches at him, every little shiver and moan. Their time apart has done nothing to dampen this connection, the way he can look at her and just  _know_  everything to how she’s feeling or what she’s craving or what special occasion he’s missed this time. He always has.

Wally kisses her as she comes, muffling the sharp little cries she lets loose until she has to tear her mouth away, her muscles tensing as her orgasm rushes through her. The feel of him as he continues through it stretching her high out until her whole body is trembling, the aftershocks keeping her at fever pitch as his thrusts become deeper, more erratic.

He buries his face in her hair as he comes, his fingers digging into her shoulders almost painfully as his breath rasps against her skin. Artemis wraps her arms around him, holding him close for a long heartbeat, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes. And then he finally relaxes, rubbing his chin against her neck like a cat as he stretches and groans, slipping out of her far too soon, and slipping too far away from her for her to do anything but let go.

She stares at the ceiling as he deals with the condom, feeling her sweat—and his—drying on her skin. It leaves her chilled and she shivers, but before long, Wally’s crawling back into the space beside her, his legs tangling with hers, his arms wrapping around her. He sighs contentedly, and when she looks over, a soft, peaceful smile paints itself across his lips. Her fingers brush his hair away from his face, lingering on his cheek, memorizing the feel of his skin beneath hers and the way they fit together, a mess of sweat and limbs and warmth. He, in turn, soaks in everything he has missed the last three months from the shine in her hair, to the softness of her skin, to the lightness in his chest when she laughs. “Hey, beautiful?”

“Mmm?” she hums, and his grin widens because he feels it in all the places they connect.

“I missed you.”

And as Artemis counts his freckles and watches the moon catch in his hair, she makes a silent promise to never leave again. “I missed you too, Wally.”


End file.
